Believing
by ravanstrawberry
Summary: Fox Shepphard is an eighteen year old who moves into 'Murder House' after the tragic death of her mother. She proclaims she doesn't believe in ghosts, but will the house make a believer out of her? And all the while she's ignoring the house's horrifying occupants, she's also fighting an extreme attraction to a certain blond dead guy; Tate.
1. Prologue

Just because I didn't believe in ghosts, didn't mean it wasn't super creepy to move into a place the locals had dubbed 'Murder House'.

But before my mother died, she had boughten the place, and left it to me in the will, along with everything she had owned.

You see, my mother died in a car accident. Apparently the road was too icy, and her tires couldn't get any traction, so she slid right off the road and into a tree at 85 mph.

Before the accident, she had bought this stupid house, proclaiming it would be 'fun to live somewhere haunted!'

Yeah. Real fun, mom.

But I moved in anyway.

I sold most of my mother's things, things I would never use them, and found myself a job working on movie sets.

I spent my days catering to spoiled, pampered stars, fetching them coffee drinks with names so long the dictionary seemed like a two worded book.

But it paid the bills.

As for living in the house itself, well sometimes it was a little eerie.

But that was probably just because I was an eighteen year old, living alone in a large house.

And a little bit because my neighbour was creepy as hell.

But at least I didn't have to clean the huge place. That's what Moira was for...

I had been hesitant about having a housekeeper, but she insisted. And after talking it over, we found an affordable amount I could pay her.

So, what's the worst that could happen?


	2. Tate

"Another stressful day, Miss Shepphard?" Moira asked as I walked through the front door.

I leaned against the door after closing it and sighed. "After catering to celebrities all day, I always have a new found respect for you." I answered.

The red haired maid gave me a smile. "That's kind of you to say. Shall I make you dinner?"

I nodded. "That would be nice. I think I'll take a bath while you do so."

I trudged up the stairs, heading towards the master bedroom as Moira slipped into the large kitchen.

"You know, this house is too quiet. You should blast some music."

I almost screamed as the young man in my bedroom spoke, giving me a Cheshire grin from his perch on my bed.

"And who the hell are you?" I asked him, ignoring his previous comment.

He stood up and shrugged, his hands resting in his pockets. "The name's Tate."

"Well, Tate, I'll have you know it's illegal to enter someone's house without permission. And it's creepy to hang around in someone's bedroom like this." I informed him.

"I didn't break in." He defended. "I promise." He put his hands out, palms up, as if I were a wild animal that he was afraid would bite him.

I let out a sigh. "Whatever. Get out."

"Aren't you going to tell me your name? Or ask where I live? Most people do those things."

"My name is Fox. I don't care where you live, I just want to take a bath. Now get out."

He quirked a brow. "Fox? Cool name. I live nearby, just so you know." He gave me a wink and then left my room, walking in confident strides.

He was a creepy motherfucker. But he was also attractive, I'll give him that.

* * *

After a nice, long bath, I slipped into my pyjamas and headed downstairs, following the aroma of whatever Moira had made for dinner.

The older woman had become a motherly figure to me, very quickly, so I was always glad that she was around. Not too mention she was a great cook and housekeeper.

I sat down at the kitchen island, and Moira sat a plate of pasta in front of me.

"Wow. Looks great!" I chirped honestly. "Thank you."

She smiled as I dug in.

"I'm going to go dust the living room before I leave, will you be alright for the rest of the night?" She asked as I twirled my fork around the spaghetti.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay." I answered and she headed out to dust and then go home.

I finished my dinner in silence, and then rinsed the plate and stuck it in the dishwasher.

I headed into the living room, Moira long gone now, and sat on the couch. Just as I reached over to grab my book off the coffee table, a blonde haired woman walked into the room.

"What have you done?" She looked around in horror as I stared at her in shock. "Such cheap fabrics in my beautiful home." She sniffled, as if she were about to break into tears.

"What? Does everyone in the neighbourhood just let themselves in without invite?" I murmured. I rubbed my eyes and turned to tell her to 'get out' only to find she was gone.

I made a quick sweep of the house, only to find I was alone.

"Okay. Weird." I whispered.

I made sure all the doors were locked and then sat back down on the couch to finish reading 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' by William Shakespeare.

At some point I must have fallen asleep. I vaguely remember dreaming of a chestnut haired, middle aged woman taking the book from my hands and marking my page as she set the book back on the coffee table.

"Go to bed." She murmured to me in a mothering tone and I nodded, following her instructions.

* * *

The next day, Wednesday, I had off from work. I had decided early in the morning that Tate was right, the house was too quiet.  
So I set off in search of a pet store.

Nothing better than a loving pet to return home to.

I ended up buying two pets, a white, fluffy kitten, and an albino ferret.

They were both so cute, I couldn't help myself...

I let the two go once home, so they could explore the house. I had already given them names.

Draco, for the ferret, of course. And Caper for the kitten.

They made the house more homey.

"You bought a ferret?" Tate asked, giving me a heart attack as I noticed him sitting on the love seat in my living room.

"Apparently you've forgotten how it's still against the law to enter someone's house without permission." I rolled my eyes at him and plunked myself down on the couch.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You might notice I'm not the only house guest you have." He said sorta vaguely.

"Are you trying to tell me people break in often?" I replied.

He shook his head. "No one breaks in."

I narrowed my eyes and switched the topic. "Why are you here?"

He moved to sit next to me on the couch. "You look lonely, living alone. Are you?" It wasn't really an answer to my question.

"Not really. I'm used to being alone." I shrugged my own shoulders. "Before she died, my mom worked all the time, so it's not like I'm a stranger to empty houses."

He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned in towards me, conveying that he was listening with interest. "Don't you have a father?"

"No." I shook my head. "He got the hell out of dodge when he learned my mom was pregnant." I wasn't sure why I was telling him, but there was something in his eyes that made you want to trust him.

"Well I can promise I'll be around a lot, so you won't be alone." He spoke as if he were doing me some huge favour, and I could tell he was teasing me.

I shoved him off the couch playfully. "Who says I need anyone?" I gave him a smile, deciding he wasn't so bad.

He laughed from on the floor, looking up at me with another Cheshire grin. "You'll want me around. You'll see."

I grabbed the couch pillow and tossed it at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He caught it and threw it back, and it soared over the couch and onto the floor. "Just that you shouldn't be so calm about living here."

I raised a brow. "Why? Because it's 'Murder House'?" I scoffed. "I don't believe in ghosts."

His attitude became serious. The joking manner gone from his face frightfully fast. "You should." He sat up on his knees in front of me. "And you will, if the house has any say in it. But I'll keep you safe."

I tilted my head to the side, listening to his words in confusion. He was almost scary, with how he spoke and acted about the 'ghosts' of the house. It was almost as if he believed the house was alive.

"You're bullshitting me." I decided.

He sighed, not in annoyance or exasperation, but as if he were tired. For a moment in his eyes I could see an agelessness I couldn't comprehend, as if he had lived longer than he should have, and had witnessed things he didn't desire to speak on.

"I won't lie to you. This time around, I'm not going to lie." He took my hand in his cold one.

I almost wanted to ask what 'this time around' meant, but I didn't.

"Alright." I mumbled, not sure what else to tell him because his seriousness was getting creepy. "Alright, Tate."


	3. Violet

A loud crash from downstairs woke me up. I shot up, my heart pounding in my chest.

My first thought was that perhaps Caper or Draco had knocked something over, but the thought was disproved when I became aware that the two creatures were in bed with me.

I slid out of my bed and reached under it. My fingers curled around the hilt of a broadsword that I had bought a few years ago.  
I tugged the weapon out from under the bed and removed it from it's sheath.

The sharp metal glinted in the pale light of the moon, coming from the window as I walked out of my bedroom.

My bare feet padded silently down the stairs, my knuckles white from gripping my sword so hard.

The figure of a man came into view as I entered the living room, he had his back turned to me and was picking up my books from off the coffee table.

I quietly approached the intruder and pressed the tip of my blade to the nape of his neck. "Turn around slowly, I am not afraid to kill you." I growled as menacingly as I could manage.

The man turned around as I said. "You have horrible decorating taste!"

I blinked my eyes in confusion. "What?" I asked.

He strode confidently away from my blade and flipped on the light.

He was a dark haired man with soft brown eyes. "I said you have horrible decorating tastes!" He gestured at my cheap, floral print couch and flea market coffee table. "Honestly. How could you do this to my house?" He murmured.

"Actually it's my house. Who the fuck are you, Queer Eye for the Teen?" I hissed, trying to make a sarcastic joke.

"I'm Chad. And this is my house, little girl. Not yours." His eyes hardened, and for a moment I was frightened of him.

I shook off the fear and pointed my sword at him again. "Get the fuck out or I'll call the police." I threatened him.

He made no move to leave so I turned to grab the house phone off the coffee table, when I turned back, he was gone.

I walked into the kitchen and put the phone back on the charging dock and then searched the house for my intruder.

All the doors were locked, and there seemed to be no sign of a break in.

I knew I hadn't dreamt it...

I moved back into the kitchen, wide awake now, and sat my sword on the island as I began digging through the fridge for a late night snack to calm my mind.

As I pulled out a stick of string cheese, I heard the sound of creaking footsteps coming towards me.

I dropped the cheese and grabbed my sword and spun around, pressing it against Tate's neck.

Tate's eyes widened as he held his hands up in surrender. "What are you doing?" He asked calmly, a smug smile crossing his features as I removed my blade from his neck.

"Sorry... There was some weird guy in the house a bit ago... Chad I think.. I'm still on edge." I admitted.

He took the sword out of my hands. "Fucking queer." He mumbled, shaking his head before looking at me. "You're alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah... Hey. No, wait. How did _you_ get in here?"

His lips curled up into that smirk he wore so well. "You left a door open." His explanation was vague, and clearly untruthful.

I reached to grab my sword back, but he moved to keep it out of my reach. "You said you wouldn't lie to me, Tate." I crossed my arms over my chest.

His smirk faded away at my words, his expression becoming a frown. "I'm not lying... I won't lie to you, Fox."

"Then tell me how you got in. And why?" I made another grab for my weapon, and this time he let me take it out of his grasp.

Tate was quiet for a moment, as if he was debating something internally. "You wouldn't believe the truth. Because if you would, you'd already have figured it out on your own."

"Fine. Be cryptic and creepy and don't tell me. I don't care." I put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him.

He allowed me to push and shove him towards the front door, which I opened and pointed a finger out at the darkness beyond my door. "Get out, Tate. Leave."

He lightly shook his head. "You know the truth, you just have to accept it. Stop rationalising things you can't rationalise!" He stepped out the door and I slammed it in his face.

I locked the door and strode back up to my room, where I put the sword back under my bed and laid down.

"Internet search Tate." Came a whisper in the dark.

I quickly reached under by bed and grabbed my sword again, pulling it out. "Who's in my bedroom? Show yourself!"

A girl who looked to be one or two years younger than me appeared by my bedside. "Internet search him." She urged again.

I frowned. "Who the hell are you? How did you get in here!?"

She sighed. "I'm Violet Harmon. I lived here once. Just search him, you'll understand. Or search for me."

Harmon. That name struck a chord of familiarity.

And then I remembered.

Harmon was the name of the family who lived here before me, three years ago. According to police reports, Violet had run away with her newborn brother.

"You kidnapped your own brother after your father committed suicide!" I gasped.

"No. I'm dead. So is Tate and Chad, who you met a little bit ago! Get with the programme before the house kills you too!" With those words, she vanished.

I stared into the empty space that she had only just been in seconds ago. Maybe I was in shock, but I was deadly calm as I walked over to my desk and booted up my laptop.

I pulled up the Google web page and typed in Tate's name.

In minutes, it was revealed to me that Tate had shot up Westfield High in 1994, killing 15 students.  
A S.W.A.T team had then been provoked into shooting Tate dead within the very house I was in now.

I slowly turned the laptop off and turned around, meeting Violet's gaze once again.

"You can't trust him, Fox. He's done more than that, too. He also murdered Chad and Patrick, the homosexual couple that lived here before my family, set Larry Harvey on fire, and raped and impregnated my mother." Violet put her hand on my shoulder as she spoke.

I slowly sat down on the edge of my bed, taking in everything she was telling me.

"You're not safe in this house, Fox." The chestnut haired woman I remember dreaming about a few nights ago, which obviously wasn't a dream, appeared.

She was holding a baby, and had a man with dark hair and a kind smile at her side. "These are my parents, and my little brother." Violet explained.

"Hello, Fox. I'm Ben Harmon, this is my wife Vivian and our son, Nicholas." He smiled at me.

"Umm. Hello." I wasn't sure what to say to them, seeing as there were dead people talking to me. "Is that Tate's kid?" I pointed to the baby in Vivian's arms.

"I had twins, one was Tate's, Constance has him, and Nicholas belongs to Ben. I died in child labour, Nicholas was a still born." Viv explained.

I nodded a few times, slowly still trying to grasp everything. And silently praying I hadn't gone insane.

"Look, Fox, you need to get out of this house. Everyone who dies here, is trapped in this place. And not all of us are nice. Some wish only to inflict their own suffering and pain, onto the living. Do you understand?" Ben Harmon asked me.

I rubbed my face with both hands, nodding to him as I did so. "I understand." I said tiredly. "But I won't be run out of my home, the only place I've got, by dead people." I balled my fists. "I'll exorcise the lot of you, if I need to. But I won't be driven away."

The Harmon family seemed to share a look of worry. "We thought we could overcome the house too, and look at us." Vivian said.

Violet nodded in agreement to her mother. "Nothing will work. I even tried the Croatoan, Roanoke spell. Nothing works. This house is evil."

"You haven't tried everything. I'm not giving up, even if it does kill me. This is my home! And you deserve freedom from this." I was adamant. I had nothing and nowhere else after all.

Plus, even if I left, I didn't have the money to go anywhere else, and even if I did, some other family would just buy the place and be in danger too.

So it was decided. I would make friends with the kind spirits of the house, as for the others, they'd be the first I got rid of.


	4. Salt and Burn

Two am found me in the backyard, digging up Tate's father's body. It was hard work, since Constance had apparently dug a pretty deep hole.

But Maria had pointed out the locations of her's and his bodies, so I knew where to dig to find Hugo Langdon.

I dug in the dark, alone, the only light to guide me was the porch light.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tate's voice sounded from the back door, causing me to jump in fright.

I placed a hand over my heart and shot him an untrusting glare as I thrust the shovel's spade into the ground again. "Digging up your father." Came my simple, yet vague reply as he sat down on the ground, leaning his back against the house.

He eyed me with a frown, and I noticed he kept fidgeting with the ring on his index finger. "What do you hope to achieve? We're all bound to this house, this place of hell."

So he knew that I knew. Good, that saves me from explaining why I don't want him around. "Go away." I instructed him.

He let out a heavy sigh and vanished from my sight, only to return moments later with another shovel. "I know what Violet told you, okay? I'm seeking redemption." He thrust his shovel into the earth, joining me on digging Hugo up.

I snorted. "Redemption?" I stopped digging and stared at him. "How can I trust you? From what I've heard, you're psychotic! Practically border-lining on sociopathic."

His knuckles turned white with the force of how hard he was gripping his shovel. "I know what I've done!" His voice was rising. "But I want to be forgiven! I want you to give me a chance, Fox!"

I shook my head. "Do what you want. But I'm not easily fooled or manipulated, so if you try anything, and I mean _anything_, I'll hurt you. I'll find a way." I promised him, giving him his chance to prove himself.

His lips quirked into a grin. "I wouldn't expect any less from you."

We dug in silence for the next ten minutes before bones, corroded with time came into view.  
The skeleton of Tate's father lay uncovered at our feet.

I climbed out of the hole we had dug and wiped sweat off my brow, smearing dirt across my face in the process. Tate appeared at my side. "Now what's your plan? Call 911 and lie about why you were digging up a body at two am?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm going to try to force his spirit into the after life." I walked over, back towards the house where I had laid kosher salt, matches, and lighter fluid.

Tate gave me a disbelieving look. "What are you doing with those?"

I grinned as I returned to the hole and poured the whole container of salt onto the bones below. "Salt and burn." Okay, it was possible I had seen too much Supernatural, but I might as well try everything.

I poured a little lighter fluid into the hole at my feet and then lit a match. Hugo appeared in the doorway of the house, watching as I flicked the match into the hole and set his bones aflame.

I watched Hugo in hopes he'd vanish or die again or something but the spirit only shrugged his shoulders, meaning I had failed.

Tate grinned at me as his father vanished. "Guess salt and burn didn't work. You'll have to try again."

I stared into the flames and sighed. "I guess so..."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Constance came rushing forward, a watering hose in her hands as she rushed to water out the flames.  
The flames went out fairly quickly and Constance looked into the hole in horror at what I had uncovered. "You better watch yourself, little girl." She pointed a perfectly manicured nail at me, the hose still spurting water.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You can't scare me. I don't know what you want, but I'm going to right the wrongs of this house. No matter what." I growled at her.

"You better rethink, missy! I'm no stranger to murder." She threatened.

I decided, in that very moment, what I had to do. The souls in the house lingered because they needed something. Solace, forgiveness, many things. They just didn't realise it. And that's why the house was able to keep them all.

Some of them, like Moira and Hugo, needed proper endings. They needed their murders solved, and goodbyes to be said.

I turned to Tate, ignoring Constance. "Where is Moira buried? And where will I find Violet's body? I know what I have to do now."

Tate pointed his finger. "Moira is only a few feet lower. Keep digging. Her bones were somehow buried deeper than his."

I nodded and jumped into the muddy hole, resuming my digging.

"Stop it!" Constance screeched at me. "Stop it, you little slut! You won't ruin things for me!"

I uncovered Moira in moments. I looked over at Constance as I climbed out of the hole, Tate helped pull me up. "Run." I told my neighbour. "Run as far and as fast you want. Because that's all you can do. If you kill me, I'll kill you." As I made the promise of mutual demise, I could feel the darkness of the house seeping through me.

It was a dark and evil power, sliding through my veins, summoned by the threats and promises of an equally evil act. A primal part of me loved the feeling of power, but the rest of me was disgusted at it. I knew if I let it, it would warp me, ensuring my death, ensuring the loss of my soul.

I closed my eyes and willed it away.

"If you touch Fox, I'll destroy everything for you!" Tate threatened. He seemed to almost grow in stature, towering menacingly over his mother.

I could see now, why Violet had warned me away. He was worse than the other spirits. He accepted and understood the evil in the house in ways the others couldn't fathom. He used it, as if it were a tool. And I wondered briefly as I looked into Constance's fearful eyes, if he even realised what he was doing.

The older woman backed off, retreating quickly from my view, back into her own home. But I knew it wasn't a victory for me. She'd return, I could tell.  
I knew she'd do anything to keep herself safe.

Dropping the shovel, I went to turn off the water for the hose and then I headed inside to wash up.

I decided quickly that my plan would be to call the police in the morning. I'd tell them I had been digging a hole in order to create a fire pit, so I could roast marshmallows and hotdogs at my convenience.

I trudged up the stairs and into my bedroom, where I was met by Vivian. "What are you planning, Fox?"  
She wore a worried expression on her face.

"I'm going to fix everything. Every single spirit in this house needs solace and peace. I'll find a way to bring it." I replied.

Ben stepped out of the darkness, coming to stand at Vivian's side. "Many of the residents won't leave without a fight. If you were in danger before, you're in over your head now." Ben spoke.

I shrugged. "The hardest things to achieve, are the ones worth doing." Plus, Tate wasn't the only one who sought redemption.  
Before California... Well, I had done things too. Things I needed forgiveness for. And this was my way of earning that forgiveness.

"Cool, we'll help if we can." Came Violet's voice. I turned to see her leaning against the door frame of my room, a smile on her lips.

"I feel I'll need all the help I can get." I replied in thanks. "But for tonight, I need a shower."

The Harmon family disappeared, leaving me to my own privacy as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I peeled off my muddy clothes and turned on the shower.  
Once the water was hot, I stepped in, allowing the warm water to wash mud down the drain.

I closed my eyes, but the enjoyment was short lived as I felt myself being knocked into the wall.  
My eyes shot open as I stood up, staring at a brown haired woman.

"If you think I'm just going to go willingly, you're wrong!" She grabbed me by the neck, forcing my face to smash into the wall hard.

I bit through my tongue and tasted blood. She made to force my head into the wall again, but I jammed my elbow into her face and forced her away.

I spit blood out of my mouth as she charged at me. I weaved away from her, aiming a kick to her face at the same time.

I had done a lot of fighting when I was younger, I wasn't a stranger to this.

But the fight was cut short when Tate appeared, grabbing the woman with a shout of "Go away, Hayden!" And she vanished.

He turned the shower off and handed me a towel, which I wrapped around my body. "I guess that's the kind of thing I have to look forward to." I mumbled. "Thanks." I told Tate.

He nodded. "I won't let anything happen to you." He replied.

I winced slightly, becoming aware that I had popped my shoulder out of place during the fight. "Shit." I grumbled.

I held my right arm tight at my side, Tate gave me odd looks as I grabbed my right arm in my left hand and snapped the bone back into place with a small scream.

His eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"I had to reset it..." I mumbled in pain.

He chuckled. "Too tough for help, huh?" He gazed at me with a soft look.

I just shrugged. "I'll probably have to deal with worse by the residents of the house later." I sighed heavily. "I'm going to sleep."

I walked into my bedroom and put on underwear and pyjamas before falling into bed.

Tate started to walk out of the room, but I threw a pillow at his head. He turned and gave me a questioning glance.

"Come protect me so I don't get killed in my sleep?" I asked, scooting over to make room for him. "And bring the pillow back!"

He grinned and kicked off his shoes and socks, sliding into bed with me. His arms wrapped around my frame as I rested my head on his chest. "I'll keep you safe no matter what, Fox." He whispered in my ear as I fell asleep.


	5. Fox's Past

The next morning, I sat on the couch, pretending to be distraught at the fact that I had 'accidentally' uncovered two bodies while digging a fire pit.

The police officer who took my statement, patted my head, trying to comfort me as I 'broke into sobs'.

Thank goodness for acting lessons and the ability to cry on demand.

It was hours later before the police had left, taking Moira and Hugo's bodies with them, leaving me alone in the house.

Or well, as alone as one can be in a house of spirits.

"That was good acting. I almost believed it." Came Tate's voice as he appeared, leaning against the doorframe of the living room.

My cheeks warmed at the sight of him, especially when I remembered how I had cuddled against him during the night.

I gave him a playful bow. "I appreciate that you appreciate my skill." I said in a jovial tone.

He grinned darkly, in that way only he could. "Well, lets just hope your plan works."

I sighed and nodded, sitting myself down on the couch. The police of course would still have to identify the bodies, reopen the case and change it from 'missing persons' to 'murder', and then come up with the correct evidence needed to pin in on Constance.

Which of course made Constance just one more thing that wanted me dead.

I balled my fists and rubbed my eyes, as if to rub all my problems away.  
Which obviously does not work.

"I did some Internet searching this morning and found several suggestions on how to dispel evil from a house and exorcise spirits.

But I dunno... I mean, the salt and burn thing didn't work, and Violet told me the Croatoan spell didn't work either, so I'm a little iffy." I crossed my legs as I spoke, and watched Tate take several long strides as he came towards me and sat down on the couch as well.

We sat at opposite ends, facing each other. "Don't rule them out until we try, you never know if they'll work or not." He grinned.

I ran my hand through my hair. What had my life become? Spirits and spells? And was it possible I was falling for a dead boy?

I heaved a sigh and decided I needed food. Preferably of the take-away variety. I stood up and wordlessly walked into the kitchen, Tate on my heels as he followed.

"What are you doing?" He inquired as I dug through a stack of menus from places that delivered.

I held up the pile of menus and smiled, pushing all thoughts not related to food away. "I'm hungry for unhealthy food. Help me decide what I want?"

With a short laugh, we sat together at the kitchen island, looking over the many different menus and what they had to offer.

"You know what, I feel like I should order one thing from each place, and just pig out." I declared.

He lifted up a menu and waived it in my face. I snatched it away and looked it over, noticing it was for the "Fire Dragon", a Chinese restaurant.

"This was my favourite place to eat, when I was alive. You should order from here." He offered a smile and I smiled back.

I handed him my phone. "Order for me? You obviously know what used to be good there."

He took the phone and our fingers brushed each other. He quickly dialed the number and I listened as he ordered some sort of seafood dish before giving the Rosenheim address and hanging up.

He handed me back the phone and brushed his fingertips over my cheek. I winced, suddenly reminded of the bruises Hayden had given me. "You're still hurt. I could see the way the police were giving you questioning glances over it."

I batted his hand away, not wanting him to keep touching the purple patch of skin. "I'll mend."

He nodded once and tilted his head. "Where did you learn to fight?" He questioned as the memories from last night refreshed themselves in our minds.

I tapped a finger against the marble counter top of the kitchen island. My mind flickered over the truth, but I was hesitant to say anything, instead opting for a distraction by change of topic. "I haven't seen Moira today, do you think she's gone?"

He shook his head. "She's still here, you just haven't seen her." He pursed his lips and pointed a finger at me. "You changed the subject. Why don't you want to answer my question?"

I looked away, pretending to be fascinated with anything but him. Finally I let out a sigh, giving in. If I told anyone my sins, it may as well have been a dead guy who had killed people, right?

"Before I moved here, I lived in New York. Mom worked a lot, so I was usually left to do whatever I wanted. Which when I was sixteen, meant selling drugs. And sometimes doing them.

It meant I got into a lot of fights with users who thought they could kick my ass and take the goods without paying, but I adapted quickly and learned to fight so that wouldn't happen. After all, my supplier would have killed me if I didn't make a profit, you know?

So another dealer taught me to fight." I shrugged my shoulders and looked into his eyes, waiting for his reply.

"When did you get out of the drug business?" He asked softly, leaning towards me as he spoke.

I clenched my fists, balling them up as I remembered why. "There was this girl, Sunny, I loved her. I'd share my stash with her, the good stuff, ya know? Not the shit I sold on the streets, but the really good stuff. It was pure.

She got too addicted and dependent on it. I went to her apartment one day and found her dead. She'd been shot by another user, who wanted to steal the stuff I gave her.

The doctor said she probably didn't feel anything cause she was so high. Even said she probably would have died that day anyway, of overdose. What a load of bullshit, huh? They probably tell those fucking lies to everyone..." I shook my head.  
"It was my fault. I was the one who got her started in it! I let her get addicted and I gave it to her freely.

If she hadn't ever met me, she'd still be alive." I bit my lip to keep from crying as I remembered the brunette haired, brown eyed girl I had loved. I remembered finding her, dead and alone.

Tate put his hand over mine. "It's not your fault. You didn't know she'd get so addicted or that someone would shoot her."

I opened my lips to protest, but was cut off by the doorbell. Tate grabbed my wallet and left me alone in the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with my take-away and wallet.

He set the bag of Chinese food in front of me and handed me a set of chopsticks. "Eat up! It's good."

I took the utensils and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around me. "I didn't do anything." He murmured.

I pulled away and wiped my eyes. "I know..." I turned to the food and pasted on a smile. "Looks good."

He smiled too. "Too bad I can't eat."


	6. Nightmare

I had expected it to be awkward between Tate and I, as I had never spoken aloud my sins from the past, to anyone. Yet I discovered he accepted me easily. I suppose he felt he didn't have a right to judge.

Unfortunately, however, with the 'discovery' of Moira and Hugo's bodies, by the end of the week, there were police 'round all the time, searching the house and grounds for anything incriminating even though years had gone by. They had ended up finding several other bodies and remains, Violet's included.

Such discoveries on their part should have been celebratory worthy, my plan was going accordingly, except it wasn't. I barely had time to see or speak with Tate, or any other spirit in the house, because police were always around, poking and prodding into every nook and crevice of the house at all hours, pissing off a great deal of spirits.

It was only because I had begged and pleaded, that I had been allowed to stay within the house. But they had cordoned off more than half of it, and there was an officer inside the mansion at all hours. It had been two weeks since I'd even seen Tate.

I laid in my bed, staring miserably up at the ceiling and wondering how I could so desperately miss a dead boy that I hadn't known very long. A dead boy that, may I add, had murdered several people among many other horrendous acts. Tonight, the only company I seemed to have were Officers Smithy and Summers, two female officers who were camped out in my living room at the moment.

They had said it was to keep me safe from Constance, who had fled without a word in the middle of the night, and to be able to be here in case she returned, but I suspected it was to also make sure I didn't mess around and bother anything in their investigation too.

I rolled over onto my side and stared at the wall where I'd tacked up a poster for one of my favourite movies, although it was too dark to make out any details.

I felt an arm sling around my waist as the area behind me sagged under the weight of someone. My breathing hitched slightly, for fear it was one of the not so friendly residents come to kill me in my sleep.

"Miss me?" Tate whispered in my ear, causing all the fear I had to flee as a shiver of excitement ran down my spine.

I stayed still, except for the grin that slid onto my face. "Not hardly." Came the whispered, halfhearted response that we both knew to be a lie.  
He settled in beside me on the bed and I rolled over, placing my head on his chest and he held me close. "You're the first welcomed company I've had in two weeks. I think the police are going to kick me out of the house soon."

I felt his fingers tracing patterns on my back, over the fabric of my shirt. "We won't be able to see each other then. You know I can't leave."

I looked up into his eyes, reading the sadness there as he spoke. "Maybe this whole 'set free all the dead people' plan wasn't so smart." I shuffled out of his arms and sat up, and he followed suit. "I can't seem to find my redemption. I think this is karma's way of saying I don't deserve it."

Tate took my hands in his larger ones. "If anyone in this house deserves forgiveness, you're the one to get it. If it were easy, would it feel worth it?"

I sighed and shook my head, wondering when he'd gotten so wise. "Guess not. But what if they kick me out, or tear down the house? I won't be able to see you."

"We've both known this wouldn't last, unless you didn't plan to free me either."

He was right, there was no scenario, short of me dying in the house, that led to us being together. Tate was dead and I was alive. And that was that. There was no bringing him back, and it would be selfish to force him to stay if he could move on.

"How depressing. I fall in love with a dead guy I can never have." I smiled a bit, letting him know I was joking to lighten the mood.

"And so the lion fell in love with the... Well other lion I guess..."

I quirked a brow at his words. "A female lion is a lioness, and I have lost respect for you if you've been willing away your not-so-afterlife reading Twilight!"

He laughed, trying to be quiet so the officers downstairs didn't get suspicious. "A resident before you watched the movie all the time, I can't be blamed if I picked things up!"

"If you're going to quote movies, quote one a bit more tasteful then one about _sparkling vampires_." I rolled my eyes.

He smiled, and I knew we were both glad to be on a lighter subject. "And what should I quote if I wanted to impress you?"

"In the terms of movies?" He nodded. "Crime and Punishment in Suburbia, The Phantom of the Opera, or Dandelion." I suggest, to which he looks confused.

"I've only heard of one of those. And I'm not the kind of guy to break out into opera at random moments." He shook his head.

"I guess we'll have to have a movie date sometime." I offer and he grins at the prospect.

"If we're still together on Halloween, we'll go to a theatre. Spirits can roam free on that night."

I nodded and tucked that little nugget of info away for later. "Sounds like a plan."

I flopped back down into a laying position and pulled him down with me before curling up at his side. "Tired?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

I pressed my face into his shirt, breathing in his scent. He smelled like dust after rain and match smoke, which was surprising since I never thought dead people had smells. "'Course I'm tired. It's almost four am." I looked up at him again. "Will you stay?"

"Until the sun rises." He promised, and I understood that he didn't want to be bothered by questions from the police downstairs if he was caught. Even still, I felt a twinge of sadness that he wouldn't be here when I awoke.

He wrapped his arms around me and I closed my heavy eyelids, allowing sleep to take me away.

_I was underwater. My limbs felt heavy and the water was murky as I stared upwards, towards a small patch of light fighting to break the surface of the dark water._

_The muffled sound of an old record player, scratching and skipping, slowly drifted on the push and pull of the current to my ears._  
_Although I couldn't make out any words, the music sounded sad._

_I turned my body towards the sound and suddenly I was standing in the Rosenheim Mansion, as if I had never been in the water to begin with._

_The house was silent and still. And I felt it in my bones, the spirits were gone._

_"Tate?" I called out and his name echoed through empty halls, going unanswered._

_I turned quickly at the sudden sound of approaching footsteps, and was somehow not shocked to come eye-to-eye with Sunny._

_"What are you doing here?" She asked calmly, her eyes the colour of melted chocolate, looked straight into mine. "You shouldn't be here, Fox, not yet."_

_I blinked several times, taking her in before answering. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through her hair, golden brown, it fell in ringlets down her back. "I live here."_

_She smiled softly, her pink lips curling up in that amused way I remembered so well. "Will you be careful? It's angry with you, you know. Because you have a chance to purge it."_

_"What's angry? I don't understand."_

_"The house." She replied. And as if affirming her words, a rush of darkness overtook the room, and I was filled with a primal fear. "It's here. I'm sorry, Fox. Try to stay alive." She pressed a soft kiss against my lips before fading away._

_I wanted to call out to her, but was stopped. The darkness and evil in the house began to take shape. A dark clad form stepped forward, and my eyes widened. "No."_

I shot up in bed, shaking the nightmare off as much as I could. Tate, true to his word, was gone now that the sun was up. But I was more preoccupied with the chill in my bones, the racing of my heart from the nightmare still.

But that's all it was right? A nightmare?


End file.
